


Make Me Home

by tjmystic



Series: Pre-Season 3 Ficathon [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has a nightmare her first night staying with Mr. Gold</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Home

Make Me Home  
August Ficathon #1

 

for temporalteatime: prompt from fleetingautumnwhispers, “Make me home/ We are these walls”

Rating: R for dry humping and heavy make-out session

Author’s Note: Not much ado for this one, my lovelies. This is just a short little present that I’ve owed to temporalteatime for about two months now. Sorry for the long wait :( Anyway, I know it won’t live up to expectations, but I will still be eagerly awaiting your review whenever you get around to it ;)

Oh, and, if you want, you can consider this a prequel of sorts to “Trickle Down”, though that wasn’t my intention when I started writing it.

 

The wind beat down hard against the timbers, rattling the frame of the old house and whirring the curtains mad. A storm was brewing, the result of too many curses cast in too short a time for this world without magic. No doubt the ordinary citizens of Maine were preparing themselves for the apocalypse.

But all of Storybrooke, their lives – and magic – remembered again, slept soundly. All, except for Mr. Gold. 

Ramrod straight under his sheets, he fought off his tired limbs and bloodshot eyes. He’d overexerted himself today, using magic that would have made him balk even in the old world after nearly three decades of not using it at all. If given the chance, he was sure he could sleep for days. But he didn’t dare close his eyes longer than it took him to blink. Not now, with Belle – alive, and whole, and still so, so in love with him – laying flush on his chest with her arms curled round his waist. He couldn’t risk falling asleep and waking up to realize it had all been a dream. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Belle shifted in her sleep, just enough for him to notice. He shook at the physical reminder that she was there, much as he tried to stop himself, but Belle only cuddled him tighter. He breathed in in relief, and, giving in to the desire he’d had all day, allowed the backs of knuckles to trace of her cheek and lips. They were just as soft as always, devoid of any marks or scars that he knew would’ve been his fault, and, much as he wanted to kiss her there, remind himself that he was allowed now and that she’d welcome it, he contented himself with petting her. She leaned into him, and he smiled happily even as he drew away. 

He hadn’t known what to expect, when they’d finally left his shop hours before. She’d forgiven him, promised that he was a man and that she intended to stay around until he believed it, too, but it still seemed too good to be true. He spent too long showing her random trinkets, he knew, rambling as he tried to shake his nerves, until she finally took pity on him and suggested they go to bed. 

Naturally, he’d taken her to one of the spare rooms – the one right across the hall from his, actually – and, with a wave of his hand before they entered, made sure it looked nearly identical to the bedroom he’d given her back home. She’d been happy, he could see that in every twinkle of her eyes as she stared at the books, and the sheets, and the mattress. The thought that she was only so happy because she’d been deprived from an actual room, an actual bed, for nearly thirty-years, almost killed him, though, and, unwilling to press his luck any further, he decided to call it a day and leave her be.

It only occurred to him as he was laying down, still fully clothed and aching to see her again even though they were just feet apart, that she’d looked confused and a bit distraught when he filled her dresser magically with sleep clothes and left without even saying goodnight.

Belle shifted yet again in his arms, enough that he wondered if she was waking up, and he adjusted his hold to make her feel more comfortable. It wouldn’t be much, considering he was still wearing his suit instead of something softer, but it was something. Had he known she was going to knock on his door and let herself in not even five minutes (for all that it felt like hours, having her so close but not enough to touch her) after he’d left, he would’ve made himself more presentable, but, as it was, he’d been too dazed and confused to do anything but nod dumbly at her. Especially when she crawled nervously onto his mattress, the white lace of her nightgown riding up to her thighs, and murmured, “You didn’t show me our room.”

He hadn’t budged an inch since she’d burrowed under his sheets and snuggled up against him.

“Rumple…”

Gold smiled lazily and tilted his face down to greet her. He’d adored holding her while she slept – how could he not – but having her awake, alive, and able to talk to him would be even better.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing the stray hairs from her eyes, longing to see the depths of blue he’d thought were lost to him forever. “I missed you.”

She tilted her face towards his, and he pushed the final strands away, hoping to see her smile. Instead, he found her eyelids still closed, breathing waveringly onto his chest as her arms tightened around him. 

“Rumple, I love you.”

His body went stiff. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he went even stiller than before, eyes widening in pure shock. She was dreaming about him. About her love for hm. 

The space between his legs twitched, arching minutely towards her. His body’s reaction disgusted him, it did, especially when she was sleeping and still so innocent, but he couldn’t’ bring himself to shift away or wake her. For all his fear, he was too awestruck to let the moment end.

“Rumple,” she whispered again, lips dragging on his tie. “Stay here.”

He nodded, even though logic reminded him that she wouldn’t see it. She wouldn’t hear him, either, but that didn’t stop him from whispering into her hair, “Of course. Forever.”

Belle nudged her face tighter into his dress shirt. She moaned something, low and hoarse, and though the sound shot a tremor down his hips, he was much more curious to find out what she’d said. 

His hands shook, but he ran them up her neck all the same. When she didn’t move, he tried again, this time caressing all the way to her ear. Belle wriggled again, but her head didn’t move. 

“Please,” she mumbled. “Don’t.”

His fingers flew away immediately. She shivered at the loss, seeking out his fingertips with her cheek, but he didn’t dare risk upsetting her again.

“Please don’t what, Belle?”

The hollow noise left her throat again, and her face jerked desperately towards his hand. “Don’t make me leave again,” she whimpered.

Gold blanched, managing at once to turn both a sickly green and the same white as their sheets. “Belle, what are you talking about?"

She curled into him, her nails biting through his thick coat. His buttons pressed cold into his skin, but when he flinched, the cold flowed down his ribs. More seeped through the front of his suit, and he looked down to Belle. It wasn’t his buttons - she was crying. Her tears were soaking him.

“Please don’t throw me out again," she begged. "You need me. I love you…"

Rumple’s heart clenched tight. He couldn’t take this, not again. Not after years of nightmares of her saying the same things with a skinless mouth and burnt-off skin.

"Belle," he said, voice breaking. “Belle, wake up."

She shook her head. "I want to stay."

"Please, Belle, you’re dreaming, love."

“Don’t make me, don’t make me, don’t make me –"

"Belle!"

Belle jerked straight off the bed, her forehead almost connecting with his jaw as she sprung to her knees. Her eyes were wild, still wet with tears and bright with fear. She was panting like she’d run a mile. Nothing came to him about how he could help, what he could do, nothing in the face of his brave girl suddenly weak and terrified, so he did the only thing he could and held her closer. He held back his moan when she tried to jump away from him.

"It’s okay," he croaked, smoothing her hair with shaking hands. “It was just a bad dream, sweetheart. Just a bad dream. It’s not real."

Belle shivered, lifting her face tremulously to meet his. She looked like she still might run away, and he tried his best to smile at her so she might stay. He knew it was more like a sneer, but he counted it as a victory when she lunged her upper body into his.

"Rumple," she choked. Another tear etched down her cheek, caught on the corner of her mouth as she sobbed and reached for his face. He didn’t care – he was torn with want for her lips and pain that he’d caused her to cry. “Oh, you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” he answered softly. “I’ll always be here.”

She whimpered, and before he could apologize for upsetting her even more, her mouth was on his and all his thoughts flew away. Her lips were desperate, anxious, as if she expected him to throw her out at any second. Gold clenched his fingers, which had somehow wound up in her scalp – that was probably exactly what she was afraid of. 

He tilted his mouth to the side, and gave her everything he had, hoping it would be enough to make the nightmare go away for just one second. He couldn’t be sure if it had worked, not with Belle’s tears plastered to his cheeks, but at least she sighed into his mouth and relaxed her grip. 

“It was just a bad dream,” he repeated, unable to say anything else with her lips pressed so close. 

Belle nodded, and released him to snuggle once more into his shoulder. “I know,” she sniffled. “I know. But it… it was awful.”

He shouldn’t ask. He knew enough from what she’d been moaning to know what her nightmare was about. But she was hurting, and she needed him, and he’d be damned if he’d let her go again. 

"What…" He cleared his throat. “What was it about?"

Belle shivered, and took a deep shuddering breath through her mouth. She was quiet before her crying for so long that he thought she wouldn’t answer, but, finally, she pulled her face up to his again and wiped at her eyes.

"We… we were at your shop," she stuttered. “I leaned in… to kiss you… but you wouldn’t let me. You said that I was foolish, thinking that… that we had a future. That you would have looked for me if you really loved me."

Gold’s eyes snapped shut. He wished he could do the same with his ears. This had been a terrible idea.

"So, I… I tried to hold you, but you threw me out of the shop and locked the doors on me. I was shouting, and this black cloud was getting close, and you said that you’d never, ever love me, and –"

Gold pulled her close, effectively cutting her off with his mouth on hers. He could taste her tears in her mouth, still open as she tried to hold back her cries. It filled him with an agony more acute than he could bear. 

Belle was the strong one, she always had been. How was it, then, that he could manage to break even her?

"Belle, listen to me," he begged, kissing the corners of her mouth until she finally pressed her lips together. “I always loved you. From the moment you kept me from shooting that thief, I swear. I was a coward, and a bastard, and an idiot to push you away like I did. I’ll never be able to make up for that, but please, please believe that I love you."

She nodded, never once removing her lips from his, and he thanked her, soothed her, by kissing her again more firmly. Her sigh of relief had her opening her mouth to him, and if she’d been more experienced and he hadn’t felt so ashamed, he would have claimed her mouth for all he was worth. Instead, he limited himself to suckling her bottom lip and twisting away let she feel just how shameful he was.

Belle finally pulled away, eyes puffy and lips swollen, but her smile, however sniffly, made his heart stop.

"You must think I’m ridiculous," she sniffed, “waking you up over a silly dream."

Gold shook his head and kissed her again on her temple. Her dream was the least silly thing he’d ever heard of. He knew, because he’d had it often enough himself. But he wasn’t quite fast enough to tell her so before she started talking again.

"Besides, it’s no wonder you didn’t look for me. I know you thought I was trying to take your magic away."

He snapped from her as if her skin had electrocuted him. His eyes searched hers, waiting for the reveal that she’d just made a quip she hoped they could both laugh about. But there was nothing of the sort to be found - just a vague hurt that he could tell she was trying to hide from him. She didn’t know. “What?"

"It’s alright, I don’t blame you," she said quickly, giving his arms a squeeze as if he was the one who needed reassurance. Her face was still lined with tears, though, and he could hear the pain in her voice for thinking that he feared her more than he loved her. “You needed your magic the curse because it gave you magic, and you needed magic to find Baelfire. I was too much of a risk, I -"

"Belle, that’s… that’s not why I didn’t look for you," he interrupted, unwilling to hear any more. She thought herself unimportant. She thought he didn’t care. She didn’t understand at all.

Her eyes crinkled with confusion, and he made himself shut his eyes to the beautiful sight lest he make a mess of himself in front of her. She was already upset - the last thing she needed was for him to break down, too.

"Why didn’t you then?"

She wasn’t accusing him, her voice - like her eyes - filled only with confusion, but he’d almost have preferred it if she had been. He should have searched for her. Her body, her tombstone, something. He should’ve known that Regina was lying. And because he hadn’t, she’d been left to suffer alone.

"Belle…" He took a deep breath, and refused to meet her gaze again. “Belle, I thought you were dead."

The shaking of her limbs stopped like a switch had gone off. One single shiver passed up her spine, and it left her cold in his arms, but he couldn’t find it in him to warm her up. He lowered his face further so she couldn’t see the moisture in his eyes.

“Regina, she… she told me. About a month after you… after I threw you out.” He had to cough to make his voice audible again, and it was mingled with a curse under his breath. First her bad dream, and now this. “She said that you went back home, and that your father had you imprisoned for dealing with me. That priests tortured you until you… until you killed yourself.”

He heard her sudden gasp, and he couldn’t keep himself from looking at her any longer. His heart ached for her, for the reminder that Regina’s lies were just that. That she was here. Even if she was crying, even if he’d fucked things up between them all over again, at least she was here. 

“I would’ve taken you back in a heartbeat, I swear. I laid out your tea set everyday just on the off chance that you’d come back to me. Belle, I never meant to hurt you this –”

She tackled him to the mattress, and now it was her turn to shut him up, clinging desperately to his shoulders and working her sweet lips over his. He wanted to keep apologizing, to beg at her feet like he should’ve done before had he not been so consumed by the realization that she was actually alive. But he couldn’t help himself – even with her skin still sticky with salt, her kiss was too surreal to relinquish. 

“Rumple,” she murmured, somehow turning his name into a caress of her tongue against his. His pulse stuttered – he didn’t know how she’d picked up that skill so quickly, but, then, she’d always been a fast learner. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He shook his head, but only a fraction of an inch, unwilling to lose her again. His arm wound around her back to hoist her even closer, and the sound of her breath hitching was the answer to every prayer he’d been too afraid to voice out loud. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he groaned, nipping at the corners of her mouth and the bridge above her chin. “You’re here now. I can tell you I love you.”

Belle whimpered, nuzzled against him as their teeth clacked together again. “I love you, too.”

Gold stuttered to a halt, a truly embarrassing noise escaping his throat. It didn’t matter that she’d already told him so, that, unbelievable as it was, he’d already heard her promise – he would never tire of it. 

He opened his eyes, desperate to watch her as he kissed her again, but he stopped at the realization that something was different. He blinked, clearing the blindness from his eyes, but it didn’t make the image easier to process. His Belle, his one true love, was wide-eyed, flushed, and panting underneath him. He was laying tight overtop her. The hand that wasn’t still hitched between her back and the sheets cradled the outermost edge of her breast. And, when his cock twitched, he realized just how hard he had to feel against her thigh.

In their hurry to comfort each other, he’d taken things too far.

It was the last thing he wanted, but he lifted himself up and began to roll away. He’d hardly budged at all, though, when Belle’s hand danced from his shoulder to card through his hair. The tremor caused by her fingernails on his scalp went all the way down his spine, and he shook with the shame of twitching yet again against her silk dress. 

“You… you don’t have to stop,” she whispered. 

Gold gaped at her, mouth open like a beached fish. She couldn’t know what she was telling him. She couldn’t understand what she was making him think. But, much as he’d regret it later, he couldn’t say no. He’d dreamed, for almost thirty years, about how sweet it would feel to have Belle under him, over him, surrounding him. None of it even began to live up to the reality of having her in his grasp, though. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her breath tickling his neck, her eyes level with his, her voice in his ears… it was all too much. His brain, the scant self-control he’d been holding onto, short-circuited. 

He ground down on her, unable to keep his hips from moving first, and the small whimper at the back of her throat was all the proof he needed that she didn’t mind. That her hand tightened in his hair, her eyes – no longer teary – widened with pleasure, and the space between her thighs and grown hot, only made it impossible for him to turn back.

He dove into her with teeth and tongue, trying to be careful so that she could keep up, but failing now that he had a full taste of her. His hand, though, stroked over her with a snail’s sped, never touching where they both wanted him to – and gods how she arched into him to let him know he was wanted – but he was more than content with the feel of her stomach under his palm. She was warm, soft even through the silk, and though it was an uncomfortable position for him, he traced endless patterns onto her.

It didn’t seem to be enough for his darling girl, though. With every new trail he drew on her, she keened and moved higher up the bed, insinuating him between her thighs to such a degree that he couldn’t keep from jerking into her. His knee throbbed at the pressure, but he wouldn’t stop for the world with Belle smiling at him like that. 

And then he pulsed inside her thighs, hard enough that he could feel her heat through her underwear, and her smile turned into a perfect little “o”.

His fingers moved up her ribs, brushing away the curls that had fallen on her face as he had while she was sleeping. Her eyes opened for him brilliantly, dark as he’d ever seen them and twinkling like mad. He lowered himself so that his lips rested on hers, too gentle to be a kiss because anything more would break him. Anything more would be too much for the both of them.

But she was still wanting. It seemed impossible, even when she nuzzled her nose against his, and jerked up her hips until his cock nestled itself in the folds of her underwear, but he heat of her, her murmured “love you”, were enough to suspend his disbelief for the moment. She wanted more. 

Monstrous though he was, desperate as he was to bury himself inside her, he wouldn’t give her all just yet. But he’d kill himself before he let her down. 

With a grunt, he hitched her thigh over his hip and pressed down with his pelvis. Her torso jerked up, plastering to his, and he felt her moan travel down his own throat. It was enough to make him snap, especially when her wetness trickled into the zipper of his trousers, but he made himself hold on, trying literally by gripping the headboard with his free hand. If he didn’t, he’d be tempted to run his fingers over the seam of her panties, to feel her juicy and waiting on his bare flesh, and that would well and truly end him. 

Belle wouldn’t allow his other to leave the small of her back, what with the way she was gyrating down on him and wiggling all over the sheets. He held her tight, bouncing into her more roughly than he should, but the sounds travelling from her lips into his were forgiveness enough for him. 

He pushed down harder, allowing his thumb to brush against the side of her breast, and she groaned something unintelligible into his ear. Her eyes were still wide, more confused than anything now, and he knew why as soon as he felt her legs clench around his. 

“R-Rumple,” she stuttered, winding her arms around him. 

She’d lost all words but his name, it seemed, opening her mouth to tell him something but unable to make any noise that wasn’t a whimper. He didn’t even try himself, knowing he’d sound truly pathetic if he did, and focused instead on watching her face. New as this was to her, insufficient as he surely was, he’d managed to give her pleasure, and it looked wonderful on her. He’d never seen her more beautiful. 

And then she fell apart, and he realized he’d been a few seconds wrong. 

For all that he’d been frozen before, he couldn’t stop moving now. There was too much of her skin to touch, too many sounds he could hear her make, too much of her mouth that he hadn’t explored. She was so sweet as she shook in his arms, biting her lip to keep from shouting and rolling her head onto his shoulder as she came. He braced his hand on the headboard to keep from caressing her, working twice as hard with his cock to rub her off that way instead, but it was a lost effort when she finally reopened her eyes and fluttered her lashes on his cheek. He’d missed them so much.

Stars burst in front of him, his eyes surely blown as he muttered filth onto his gorgeous Belle’s throat. Every nerve in his body was numb, the only sensations he could feel coming from her pressure on his waist and her breath on his chin. He heard her try to whisper that she loved him, and, old though he was, it happened all over again, a stream of stickiness and heat coating the front of his trousers as she continued to ride him dry. 

It felt like hours later when he’d finally regained his strength enough to roll off her and scoop her into his side so he could hold her. 

She was disappointed, he could tell, but, hopefully, she’d forgive him in the morning. She’d realize that he was saving her from being hurt, from lending her first time to a demon who would only let her down. She’d be happy that they’d both had their pleasure without consequences. She’d sleep a night at last without nightmares, and without being alone. She’d know she was loved. 

He snapped his fingers, ridding his pants of the mess he’d made in them. He’d shower later, when she was asleep again and wouldn’t feel lonely without him. 

Belle reached around and cradled his nape with her palm. “Rumple…”

He cut her off with a kiss to her cheek. “Shhh. It’s alright, sweetheart. We’re alright.”

She sighed, and he looked down on her with a guilt that surpassed any pretense. He’d been trying to help her. He hadn’t meant to make her upset, he hadn’t…

She was smiling. Smiling, and, judging by the evening of her breath, falling back to sleep. Her fingers let go of his hair to cup his own gnarled hand, and brought it to rest below her ribcage. 

He choked on his breath, unable to be anything but amazed at her, and let his nails trace along her hip. He’d finally done something right. 

He wanted to touch her, really touch her, more than he wanted to breathe. But not yet. For now, just holding her would be enough. For now, they were both home.


End file.
